#Australians #Lesbian #Women
He had served eighty masters. The… He 'worked for these employers’ to… And they, if they had heard him, w… To brand him inefficient whom they… For to know eighty masters is to k…
Each day I sit in an ill-lighted… To teach a boy; For one hour by the clock great wo… Are our employ. We read St Agnes’ Eve and that m…
They have a few little hours To study the world’ Its lovely absence of clouds, Or the thunderbolts hurled By hidden powers’
He has a fairy wife. He does not know her. She is the heart of the storm, Of the clouds that lower. And as the clouds are torn
When I am making poetry I’m good And happy then. I live in a deep world of angelhoo… Afar from men. And all the great and bright and f…
Every night I hurry home to see If a letter’s there from you to me… Every night I bow my head and say… ‘There’s no word at all from him t…
Old memories waken old desires Infallibly. While we’re alive With eye or ear or sense at all, Sometimes, must love revive. But we’ll not think, when some str…
She is not of the fireside, My lovely love; Nor books, nor even a cradle, She bends above. No, she is bent with lashes,
Now all the lovely days are past, The hours of sun and leagues of se… And starry nights that lay between Yourself and me. Our boat has left the sea behind.
This year I have seen autumn with… Glimpsed hitherto undreamt of myst… In the slow ripening of the town-b… Horse-chestnut lifting wide hands… And silver beech turned gold now w…
I wish you’d seen that dirty littl… Finger at nose, Peeking and ginking at some girls… Seated on the high window-sills to… One of the girls had hair as brigh…
All day long We sew fine muslin up for you to w… Muslin that women wove for you els… A million strong. Just like flames,
O man, O woman, grievest so? Art shut away from all delight, And must thou leave this garden pl… O Eve, O Adam, question not. The God is kind who would be crue…
Every day Miss Mary goes her roun… Through the splendid house and thr… Looking if the kitchen table’s whi… Seeing if the great big fire’s ali… Finding specks on shining pans and…
I do hate the folk I love– They hurt so. Their least word and act may be Source of woe. ‘Won’t you come to tea with me?’